Skip to main content

Full text of "Long Lance"

See other formats



E first thing in my life that I can remember
JL was the exciting aftermath of an Indian fight
in northern Montana. My mother was crying
and running about with me in my moss bag-
carrier on her back. I remember the scene as
though it were yesterday, yet I was barely a year
old. Women and horses were everywhere, but I
remember only two women: my mother and my

My mother's hand was bleeding. She was cry-
ing. She handed me to my aunt and jumped on
a pony and rode away. My infant mind told me
that something tragic was happening, and though
Indian babies seldom cry, I cried for my mother
when she ran away and left me. It seemed that
I should never see her again.

That scene left such a startling impression that
all during my growing years it kept coming back
to me. I wondered what it was and when I had
seen that strange panorama, or whether I had

17                      B